


Manufactured Resurrection

by vesper_rose



Category: Law & Order: Criminal Intent
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-21
Updated: 2016-06-21
Packaged: 2018-07-16 11:48:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7266937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vesper_rose/pseuds/vesper_rose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short little post-Frame fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Manufactured Resurrection

That day, he left early, without notice. And the next day, he wasn't there. And the day after that. They had tried to get a hold of him but he didn't answer his phone. They checked his apartment but he wasn't there. Nothing was disturbed or suspiciously out of place. "If he doesn't show up tomorrow, I'm firing him," Ross said resolutely. "He can't just drop off the radar like this and think there won't be some kind of consequences, especially in light of his past.. transgressions," he added sourly. "He's had a lot on his plate, you know. I'm sure he's just gone off somewhere to clear his head," Eames countered. They headed back to the office in silence. There was no reason in particular to think that something sinister had happened to him, so it became a waiting game of sorts to see when he would finally decide to show up again, at which point he would be out of a job, but Eames hoped she could convince the captain to rehire him, in spite of his desertion. 

It was mid afternoon on a Tuesday, some number of days after the cataclysmic events has transpired. Goren walked aimlessly through the city, with thoughts weighing on his mind. He hoped Eames or the captain wouldn't happen to catch him as he made his way to nowhere in particular, walking just for the sake of walking, because it was marginally better than sitting morosely inside his apartment. The crowds of people glided past him, their minds occupied with things that were probably more tolerable than the issues Goren was grappling with. At the very least, he imagined that their thoughts and worries were more mundane than his own. What he wouldn't give to slip into the life of one of those people, just for a moment, just to escape what plagued his own. 

He came to a furniture store, some Scandinavian company, all sleek and modern looking, shiny windows that offered a view of the carefully arranged furniture displays, not a single piece out of place. Goren was never a big fan of modern design - he found it too impersonal and faintly reminiscent of the possibility that sleek faced, anthropomorphic robotic beings would take over the world someday. But maybe he'd see something of minute interest in this store. And they probably wouldn't think to look for him in a modern furniture store. He went in, declined assistance from the young man who offered to help him find "the perfect sofa" and wandered through the store, running his hand idly over the leather of chairs or the wood of a table. The store was divided into a number of rooms, each one painstakingly decorated to give the impression of the highest level of Scandinavian style for the home. Everything was efficient lines and forms and stark colors, no delicate carvings on the legs of a table or floral upholstery on a sofa. He came to the back of the store, the last little room, which was decorated with furniture to resemble a theoretical living room. And there, in a white armchair sat something, someone, so surprising he couldn't believe his eyes.   
"I just had to see you again, Bobby," she said softly, looking up at him from where she sat. "Nicole. Not dead after all, then?" He should have known. Somehow, she had managed to come back from yet another brush with death. She was wearing all white, like some kind of twisted angel descended from the heavens. She stood up and walked towards him. "We couldn't let things end like that now, could we? There's so much more out there for you and I, Bobby." She began to unbutton her shirt, slowly and deliberately, revealing a scar on her chest. "Money can buy a lot of things. Even a new lease on life."   
"It can't buy a conscience," Goren said resignedly.

**Author's Note:**

> I just watched this episode earlier today and thought this would be an interesting little idea to explore (it's probably already been done, and been done better than I have here but I just had to give it a shot). If I had more of an idea about what could happen after where this fic ends, I'd write it, but I just don't really have anything else at the moment.


End file.
